


A Pirate's Life is a Wonderful Life

by fandomfan



Series: Gen Kill, Pirate!AU Style [2]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Coda, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfan/pseuds/fandomfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Give me a career as a buccaneer, it's the life of a pirate for me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pirate's Life is a Wonderful Life

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I wrote a tale of Brad and Nate as pirates, overseen by CabinBoy!Walt. Today it has been rainy and cold, so I thought staying in writing porn about these two sounded good. This is a brief coda to that fic, which won't make much sense unless you've read the original. (Yes, the title is from the Disney version of Peter Pan.)

Nate isn’t certain how long he’s lain in the dark with Brad, but it’s long enough that the moon’s risen. She’s a stalwart crescent whose argentine rays come spindling across the cabin, and Nate lets fancy take him for a moment, sees Brad— silver-washed, hair pale—as indeed one of the Frost Giants of his people that Hasser mistook him for before the lad signed the articles.

Hasser. That puts him in mind of …

“I know you’re awake, so answer me this,” Nate says. Brad doesn’t stir beside him, but even without looking, Nate knows his eyes are instantly open, waiting. He turns to his side and verifies that he is, indeed, correct before continuing. “At what point exactly did you realize Walt was outside the door earlier?”

Brad appears to ponder this seriously before the left side of his mouth turns minutely up. “I believe it was ‘round about the time you were telling me—in exceedingly winning fashion, I might add—to put my mouth to your prick.”

“Why, Bradley,” Nate gasps, feigning horrified shock as broadly as any player, “that was astonishingly early in tonight’s proceedings! Surely, given that, you could have opted to pursue a less salacious path for the evening.”

“And where, do tell, would the fun’ve been in that?”

“Mister Colbert, you scandalous creature!” Nate rolls atop Brad, sitting astride his waist, fighting unsuccessfully now to keep the grin from his lips. “Surely you’re not implying you enjoyed our sport the more for knowing Hasser was watching?! Assure me such perversions have not sullied your excellent mind.”

Brad just looks up at him steadily. Nate feels as though he’s supper.

“Right. Belay that assurance, then. And you were calling _me_ the devilish one. I feel unfairly done by!”

“You were very fairly and very thoroughly done by this evening,” Brad growls, rustling his hips. “I can personally vouch for the individual making that so, and I’ve never heard complaint about his skill, nor his enthusiasm neither. ‘Specially not from you, sir.”

Nate raises himself up away from Brad’s body as it seeks his. It’s a downright frustrating tease, keeping himself from all that warm, firm flesh. “No, I’ve no complaints as yet,” he says, dodging his own hips away from Brad’s as they writhe about after him. “Mind you,” he goes on, “I’ll have no truck with your unnaturally perverse notions.”

“ _My_ perverse notions, sir?” Brad asks, both expressive brows lifted high. “If I recall aright, it was a certain Captain who just last week wanted to be—now let me see if I can summon back the precise wording—‘pressed to the ship’s wheel and fucked ‘til I can bear it no longer, and damn any of the crew who spies it’.”

Nate shivers at the recollection of the request, and at the subsequent fulfillment of same. For such pleasant reverie, he rewards Brad by lowering his hips so their cocks frig together deliciously.

“A ship’s wheel is a Captain’s to do with as he pleases,” Nate says. He’s striving for a matter-of-fact tone, but friction’s begun to have its way with him, and damned if he doesn’t already sound breathy and hoarse.

Brad, on the other hand, sounds as though they’re discussing the mundanities of the _Bravo_ ’s inventory when he responds with, “And as a Captain pleases, so should an obliging crew proceed.”

“Some crew are most particularly obliging,” Nate grits out as he leans forward to pin Brad’s hands at either side of his head.

Brad’s eyes snap like the charge in the air before a storm. “Some crew care a great deal for their Captain’s pleasure, be it never so perverse.” He exhales a great whined rush.

There follow a few minutes without talking from either man before Brad continues, low and fervent, “I’ll always do for your pleasure, Nate. Always and however you want it.”

With eyes and hands locked and hips rubbing fast-building thrills between them, Nate wants to promise Brad things. Wicked, wicked things. “And I, you. Always and however… if you want Hasser to watch, he’ll be here nightly.”

Brad’s hips stutter and then re-find their rhythm. “And if you want to be spitted on my yard at the wheel, I’ll not go near it without slick to hand.”

Nate gasps brokenly. “And if you want to play the Captain and order me about as you like, I’ll suck your pistol like it’s your prick or polish your boots with my spunk or–“

But Brad forestalls any further described depravities with the high noise he makes when he spends, pulled out of him along with a sharp jerk of his hips that has Nate cursing and dropping his head down to watch his own release jet from him across Brad’s strong, flat belly. A scatter of white islets on an ocean of sun-burnished skin.

Nate’s impromptu geographical metaphor amuses him, and he laughs lightly as his breath calms.

“Aye? I amuse you?” Brad inquires. As compared to his oft-intricate turns of phrase, this is downright monosyllabic.

“I was mapping my additions to the local topography,” Nate says, gesturing at the chain of islands in question.

Brad stares down at his stomach, then back up at Nate, face neutral. “Head full of charts even at a time like this, sir? And the mawkish, sentimentalizing sort of chart I’d sooner expect of a fan-fluttering maid than a salt-crusted sea Captain.” There’s a soft smile behind Brad’s cutting words, though, that Nate’s become exceedingly adept at reading.

Nate gestures at the pale Fick Archipelago in the midst of bronze Colbert Sea, and returns both Brad’s acerbic verbiage and his fond smile. “It appears I’m not the only one salt-crusted at the moment.”

“Ah, but a cruel hurricanoe might destroy such fragile landforms at any moment,” Brad says, and swipes a hand across his belly, clearing away Nate’s spendings, which he wipes rather insalubriously on the edge of the coverlet. 

Nate is glad—not for the first or even the hundredth time—to have such a man by his side in war, love, and laughter, all. He climbs off of Brad and returns to lying beside him in the companionable moonlit dark. It’s a few silent moments of slipping back toward sleep before Nate remembers something else that forces a chuff of laughter from him.

“And what is it this time that delights the mind of the great Captain Fick and keeps his handsome bedfellow from much-merited rest?” Brad asks, wry-voiced.

“One of your schemes has just dawned upon me,” Nate replies. “If you knew Hasser was in the passage tonight, it was your intended purpose to set him on a path towards a certain verbose Navigator of ours.”

Brad’s silence answers for him.

“Person will never know how much he owes you, will he?”

“Not if I can help it, no. I can’t have that addle-brained, bilge-born miscreant mistakenly thinking I care whether he gets what he wants.”

“Heavens forfend!”

They’re quiet for a moment before Nate quietly continues. “You’re a good friend to him, Brad. And a good man.”

Brad leans up on one elbow and looks him solemnly square in the face. “It’s how you lead this crew that makes me want to live up to your example, sir.”

Nate puts a hand to the side of Brad’s face and lifts up to kiss him, shallow but sincere.

“You do know what to say to please a man,” Nate says as he pulls back.

Brad lies down again as he responds, “I’ll say nothing of your generalized ‘man’, but I’ve a good idea what to say that Nate Fick’ll be glad of hearing, yes.” He pulls Nate back against his chest and continues into his ear. “As I mentioned, there’s some crew as care a great deal to please a Captain.”

Nate smiles in the dark. “You may be assured that I’m well pleased. Very well pleased, indeed.” And he settles his body and his mind to sleep, held by Brad and by the _Bravo_ and by the sea.


End file.
